"Hahaha!" The group of underage girls diagonally across the street laughed cheerfully. Their carefree demeanor made it seem as if they were recklessly enjoying a beautiful childhood. However, their mature attire, heavy makeup, and forlorn postures presented a stark contrast to their pure and clear laughter.
They were preparing to sell their bodies without fully understanding what it meant. Such a drastic contrast added an air of desolation and chaos to the streets of the Bronx.
Renly's steps didn't falter as he walked past the traffic lights, continuing in the opposite direction of the young girls. Only twenty meters away on his right, there was a Starbucks. Starbucks was everywhere.
The smoky gray brick walls, black pillars, and simple decor made it look like an ordinary convenience store. The classic logo above served as a reminder to passersby that it was the world's most successful coffee chain.
Inside the shop, the soft yellow lights were lit. Only a few customers were scattered around. At a long table near the window, a young man had his laptop open, engrossed in his work. There were some unfriendly glances directed his way, but the young man remained unfazed. Evidently, he was a native resident of this place. Outdoors, there were seven or eight gray stone tables, with a primitive and rough construction site aesthetic. They showed no concern about the risk of being cleared out at night.
Renly's appearance didn't draw any attention. Similar figures could be seen both inside and outside the Starbucks. At a stone table near the entrance, a homeless man was savoring a freshly brewed coffee. His layered attire had a somewhat "Pirates of the Caribbean" style, and he sat there contentedly. The staff didn't come to drive him away.
Entering the Starbucks, Renly glanced around before heading back out. Finally, in a corner, he found his target. He walked straight over and sat down across from an elderly man wearing a gentleman's hat. His gray, tangled hair shot out haphazardly from beneath the brim of the hat, and his world-weary face bore exaggerated and comical expressions. To onlookers, he seemed like a madman.
Seeing Renly sit down, the old man's eyes widened, revealing slow excitement and enthusiasm. "How's it going? How does it feel? What have you gained? Do you have any questions for me? I heard there was a police incident yesterday. You weren't at the scene, were you? Did you visit the nearby high school? I've always wanted to talk to those kids, but they always refuse. Maybe, being closer to their age, you can get through to them?"
Chattering away incessantly, the questions came one after another, without any pauses. His urgent and expectant mood was expressed vividly. What was even more interesting was that he didn't seem to care about Renly's safety. He didn't even bother with a polite inquiry but focused all his attention on the "important matters".
Apart from Tony Kaye, who could it be?
Renly had long grown accustomed to Tony's urgency and focus. Imagine an elderly man who, in order to film "Black Water Transit" and expose the government's responsibility behind environmental issues, had his filming halted by official orders. This was the United States, where even films like "Fahrenheit 9/11", "Snowden", and "The Fourth Estate" were made. However, "Black Water Transit" failed to complete filming, illustrating the magnitude of its impact.
In other words, Tony was more determined, more devoted, more relentless, and crazier than Renly. Naturally, he was more supportive and enthusiastic about Renly's proposal to personally experience what he was working on.
"No, no, uh... no, no," Renly placed the burlap bag in his hand to the side and carefully recollected, uttering a series of negations. After a brief pause, he nodded earnestly. "Yes, the answers to all your questions are 'no.'"
Tony Kaye, bemused by this straightforward response, chuckled. He couldn't even recall what question he had just posed. Before he could say anything, a loud and exaggerated roar from the street behind them drowned out all the surrounding noise.
Turning his head, Tony saw a colorful "luxury" convertible racing down the street. The modified engine emitted a deafening noise with a slight press of the accelerator pedal. Inside, three, four, five, six individuals, all of them black, were piled together like a human pyramid, creating a lively spectacle.
The convertible came to a halt at the crossroads with traffic lights, and then the occupants began whistling at the girls across the street. Their catcalls were incessant, and they boldly flirted with them, creating a raucous scene that reverberated at the intersection.
Renly and Tony both turned to look. The convertible slowed down and continued on its way. Its passengers continued their verbal taunts, while the girls across the street responded defiantly. One of them even threw her handbag, which was caught by someone in the convertible, who then sped away.
The noisy incident lasted barely half a minute, and soon everything returned to calm. Renly and Tony exchanged glances, and for a moment, they fell into silence.
Tony slumped heavily into his seat, resting against the backrest. The joy and contentment that had filled his expression had vanished, replaced by weariness. He rubbed his temples, gazing at Renly under the café's lights. Renly's face displayed a mixture of surging anger and helpless lamentation, a conflicting and tumultuous blend of emotions that defied easy description. And with it came a tinge of resignation on his lips.
Renly met Tony's gaze, and in the end, it was Tony who broke the silence, half-jokingly saying, "I thought you were going to charge in there."
In fact, Tony had already stood up, his hands clenched into fists, the seething anger almost uncontrollable. He seemed much more agitated than Renly. But in the end, Tony slumped back down, and all the emotions on his cheeks dissipated, leaving behind a face filled with fading enthusiasm.
Facing Renly's jest, Tony tugged at the corners of his mouth but couldn't manage a smile. Instead, he let out a long, deep sigh. "They've given up on themselves. What more can I do? You can never wake someone who's pretending to sleep."
His words carried a heavy sense of pessimism, like the thick, unrelenting cloud cover during the rainy season. "This isn't like you," Renly said, propping his chin with his fingers as he observed Tony with unwavering certainty, a tone that made Tony pull at the corners of his mouth once again.
"Of course. If everyone chose to compromise because they couldn't effect change, gradually losing their edges to society, then society would never progress. We shouldn't let society change us; instead, we should strive to change society through our efforts," Tony spoke calmly, not in a preachy tone, but with a heartfelt sigh. "However, individual power has its limits. I can't help everyone. Not to mention those hidden corners I can't even see; even among those I do see, I might not be able to assist."
Tony shrugged, his gaze refocused. "To change society, we need to awaken the consciousness of every individual, turning one person into a small group and then that small group into a large one, ultimately achieving change. As a director, an artist, my work is both my weapon and the meaning behind my filmmaking. I hope that through my lens and my visuals, I can make the audience feel the truth of society. If out of a hundred or even a thousand viewers, just one person takes action or changes their perspective, then that's my victory."
The Tony before him reminded Renly of Lu Xun, the man who changed China with his pen.
In the beginning, words were merely used for recording, but over time, they evolved into something more significant, becoming art and influencing generations. Literature, painting, music, and film—strictly speaking, all art forms—have this transformative power, not only on a spiritual level but also as a vital force driving social progress and change.
Undeniably, art was initially meant for entertainment, and film was no exception. It made people feel relaxation, joy, release, comfort, and pleasure. That was the initial purpose of cinema. But what made cinema the Seventh Art was its ability to transcend mere entertainment and carry a higher mission.
Just like the album "Don Quixote".
While it's important to encourage the production of commercial films, artistic films should not be abandoned. Both are indispensable. This is why "The Dark Knight" received so much acclaim. It's not an exaggeration to say that it's the pinnacle of merging commerce and art in the 21st century. Until Renly's rebirth, there hadn't been another work that reached such heights.
"So, is this the original intent behind your film "Detachment"?" Renly deeply admired Tony.
Although Renly had already directed four films, three of which were independent films, they had all remained within the confines of "film" and mostly relied on the experiences and concepts of the creators, unable to break free from reality and attain the heights of art. "Detachment" was Renly's first foray into creating an artistic work, which, fundamentally, set it apart.
Tony pressed his lips together, not providing an immediate response. Instead, he counter-questioned, "Is this your insight after experiencing it firsthand? How do you feel about the Bronx, or rather, the people living in the slums?"
Art springs from life and transcends it. Renly had chosen to live in the Bronx's slums in the guise of a homeless person to genuinely understand Tony's original intent. Now, he was beginning to feel it on a deeper level. This was something that couldn't be understood through armchair theorizing; this was a breakthrough.